Wings of a Butterfly
by AkumaNoDanna
Summary: Levi/Eren. In a society ruled by aristocrats there is a shady organization most known for their charity to the poor. A trade with a better-off businessman takes an unexpected turn when a dagger in the hands of a green-eyed boy pierces the man's chest. It is up to commander Levi to decide whether to trust the fearless teen to aid them in the fight against corruption or not. AU
1. The Boy in the Shadows

_Hola, Attack on Titan fandom aka Levi's bitches, yes?_

_Due to my current obsession with LevixEren and the inability to find a story to really fit my tastes (I suck at searching, prolly), I wanted to give this fandom a try. Hopefully it'll turn out decent? Feedback is appreciated aye. _

_Buckle up mateys, we going for a hella ride._

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

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><p>The man stood tall under the flickering yellow light in the abandoned warehouse, unaware of the pair of green eyes monitoring his every movement from the shadows. His black dress pants and jacket that hung open over his light striped shirt looked impeccable, save for the few grey stains on his legs from climbing over the dusty clusters of rocks that blocked the entrance to the building. Hands placed in the dress pants' pockets, his gaze was fixed on the three people opposite to him.<p>

"Wouldn't have killed you to choose a place with proper lighting at least," he grunted with a mild Italian accent, referring to the dysfunctioning lamp above their heads currently acting as the sole source of light.

"If we had the freedom to choose whatever place we wanted, we would not be here, don't you think?" a male from the opposing group spoke.

The Italian chuckled. "Freedom," he muttered with a mocking undertone. "You sure like that word a lot. Enough to even put it in the name of your petty organization." The man chuckled again, receiving cold yet sharp looks from the opposing party. "_Wings of Freedom."_

"Your blabber is not why we're here," the second man snapped. "Do you have the money or not?"

The Italian man chuckled. "Relax," he said, stretching the vowel slowly, "all the money is in the case." He kicked the black case next to his feet and watched it slide across the distance between himself and the group of three.

The first opposing man to speak - a tall male with blonde hair tied into a ponytail behind his head - squatted down to the case and swiftly snapped it open. One moment he glanced at the contents and a inspected with his hand, the next he had already closed the case and was up on his feet, giving a nod to his companions.

Judging by the way the supposed leader's body turned, they were ready to take their leave, when the following words made them halt.

"How amusing it is," the Italian started, speaking in a lazy manner, as though they were casually sitting in a cafe with all the time in the world rather than meeting up in an abandoned warehouse at midnight, "dealing drugs, committing thievery and blackmailing law-abiding citizens, under the image of some kind of saviors."

"If you ask us to feel bad for taking money from you fat pigs perched cozily in carriages led by the lower class who have to sweat blood just to get a loaf of bread, then you're wasting your breath."

"And you think you're this world some sort of a favour by feeding those weaklings that fail to take a stand for themselves?"

Hidden green eyes darkened dangerously at the man's words.

"There's no use in aiding trash like that! Better make use of them, a dog is only good for serving his master besides sniffing his own arse after all-"

The man was cut off mid-sentence and he gasped for air, letting out a pained moan. The eyes of his opposing body widened as they watched the man's shirt soak in blood from the dagger sticking out from his front.

A nauseating sound could be heard as the blade made a sharp twist in the man's chest before being pulled out, letting the limp body fall onto the floor. The man's last movement was coughing up droplets of blood before his body became completely motionless.

Green eyes gazed down at the corpse, a mixture of anger and satisfaction glowing in them as the person kicked the body with his foot.

"Fucking toff," he hissed under his breath before meeting the startled gazes of the three men staring right at him.

-x-

It was a quiet night in the Headquarters of the Wings of Freedom, an organization known for their charity to orphanages and the poor, semi-secretly frowned upon by the higher classes of the society. The legality of the organization's business was as true as the "equality for all" campaign that the government preached - and given that the hierarchy of the society divided people into classes at birth from which no-one could escape from is a hint to indicate just how law-abiding the WoF actually was.

The country was ruled by aristocrats, a capitol of 101 people from 51 wealthiest family branches that carried out all trials, proposed and set the laws, gathered taxes and made the decisions for the distribution of them.

Everyone born within one of those 51 families could consider themselves blessed. At the very least they would not ever have any financial worries, and usually the only ones they had were the choice of outfit for another glamorous party, or body weight that tended to get out of control and pose a health risk.

If you were not born into one of the previously mentioned families, there were two options for you - either your family was favored and you got to put on fresh clothes everyday to work the job that was picked out for you, or you were destined to scrubbing toilets for 5 pennies an hour and put on whichever rags had the least holes.

The Wings of Freedom was the first organization to take a stand against the hierarchy in any form and last more than a month after its formation. Usually groups like that got disbanded rather quickly after a series of "mysterious disappearances" involving the leaders of such groups. The reason of it was known only to a handful of people, causing controversy among the rest - was WoF actually there to help the lower class or was it just another method for spying on the people?

Despite the lack of certainty, thousands of people thanked the God for its existence daily, seeing it as a ray of hope in the otherwise grim reality. On days when children died of starvation and young people collapsed of exhaustion at work, hope was the only thing that kept them going and WoF had made it its responsibility to not let that hope disappear from their sight.

As it was said, it was a quiet night in the headquarters of the Wings of Freedom. That was until the front door flung open and two men - known as Gunther and Oluo - followed in after Eld, who had opened the door for them, dragging an unconscious figure by the arms.

"Take him downstairs and cuff him up in case he wakes up," Eld said, "We don't want this lunatic loose in the house, I believe." Without thinking about it, his hand ran over the fresh wound on his neck. "I'll go report to Levi."

"I swear it's idiotic just bringing this beast here," Oluo grunted as they dragged the body down the stairs. "We should've just killed him right there. He's brought us trouble already without being here."

Gunther sighed harshly. "It's not that I don't understand Eld's reasoning - this was indeed a rather unexpected incident and probably worth looking into - but that doesn't mean I necessarily agree with him. We could've tied him up and left him right there to check up on him in the morning. No need to bring him here."

"Would've probably chewed through whatever we tied him with, with his rage alone," Oluo said. "Did you see the look in his eyes when he killed that man? Not a second of doubt or remorse, and he doesn't even look old enough to be out of school. This is a natural killer. I hope Levi decides to get rid of him soon."

Gunther did not reply but in his eyes it was clear that he was not exactly against the man's suggestion.

In the room they took the boy to he was cuffed with both hands to a pipe on the wall. Gunther tried the chains a few times, making sure they were locked safely, before stepping away and taking a look at the figure leaning on the floor against the wall, chin resting against his chest. He gave him a measuring look.

The boy could not have been older than seventeen, although his dirt smeared face and unkempt hair could have added another three years to his looks. His clothes - a plain green shirt with long sleeves that were too short for his arms and a pair of jeans with holes in the knees - looked well-kept but old. Obviously this kid did not belong to one of the "blessed" families. The soles on his faded sneakers were detached at the front and the heels had been worn thin; it was likely that this was the only pair he owned.

His currently loose hands looked like they had a strong grip; the skin on the palms looked hard, clearly used to physical work. The dust from the floor of the warehouse covered the dried blood that was certainly still on his hands. The dagger they had held - the one that had brought the aristocratic Italian man to an early death - was currently in Eld's possession.

Oluo grunted as he paced around in the room while waiting; this should have been an easy night of simply going out to receive the money, and without this nuisance now lying tied up on the floor he would have been in bed watching some good television show and dozing off already.

Gunther stayed quiet throughout the wait. He took a seat on one of the wooden benches next to the boy - the room was usually used for meetings and the walls were lined by benches and chairs that had been pushed aside for another occasion. He had been staring blankly at the wall when he sensed movement to his right and signalled Oluo to stay alert. He stood up and put a few meter distance between himself and the boy; the other man joined him by his side as they watched the teen slowly raise his head and open his eyes.

"Wo bin ich?" were the first barely distinct words that left the boy's mouth as he tried to steady his gaze and looked around himself.

Oluo's eyebrows knitted together in confusion, the same time Gunther muttered "German" under his breath. He then turned to Oluo, who he knew not to be as educated, and explained in a low tone, "The kid's german."

A mixture of disgust and contempt covered Oluo's face. "No wonder he's at the bottom of the food chain. The Dorchesters can't stand them." Dorchesters were one of the 51 one top families, and Oluo's facial expression said that for once he had something in common with an aristocrat.

Gunther appeared contemplating. "Didn't look so bottom to me in the warehouse."

"A dog can have rabies but it's still a dog."

The boy had investigated the room enough to fix his gaze on the two men before him.

"Wer zum Teufel seid ihr?!"

It was hard to tell which Oluo was feeling more - confusion or repulsion by the language. Gunther had more experience with linguistics and translated to him, "He's asking us who the hell we are."

"Who we are?" Oluo repeated, irritated. He looked at the boy, snapping back at him, "You better tell us who the hell _you_ are. And speak in a language that doesn't sound like you've nails in your ass, for crying out loud."

The kid's eyes narrowed at the man while the corner of his mouth twisted upwards. "How about you let me out of these cuffs and I'll teach you that language the hard way, old man," the boy spoke fluently with the slightest accent to his words.

"You _brat_-!" Oluo snarled and took a threatening step forwards, one foot already lifted off the floor for a potential kick when the doors to the room swung open and two men, one of whom was Eld and the other the man he had gone to report to - Levi, a rather short man with dark hair parted in the middle and eyes that held a look that could have killed.

Oluo took a step back instantly, his whole body stiffening seeing the Commander enter the room. Levi was far from an easy-going person even on daily basis, what his reaction would be to an unexpected turn of events such as this one was something he would have rather not known.

Levi took a quick glance around the room before fixing his gaze on the teenager cuffed to the pipe by the wall. Given his expressionless face it could be assumed that Eld had filled him in, in detail on what would be waiting for him.

"Has he said anything?" Levi asked, turning to Oluo and Gunther.

"He's-"

"What's the matter?!" the boy shouted, seeming displeased with the complete disregard that had suddenly been shown to him, "Can't take me on, on your own and feel the need to bring in more of your capitol shit?!"

Levi sent the boy a sharp look, making eye contact with him.

"He's German," Gunther finished. "We didn't have time for a longer conversation."

"Levi, I think we should just let this one-" Oluo started.

"Pipe the fuck down," Levi snapped, eyes still in contact with the green ones. His order was followed immediately. "And leave me alone with him."

Despite the unsure expression on Oluo's face he followed Eld and Gunther out of the room, closing the doors behind them.

"This was an idiotic idea," he muttered.

-x-

Eren eyed the man before him carefully as the others left the room. Something about him - the icy look in his eyes or maybe the way he ordered others around and everyone followed his orders as though they were afraid of the consequences if they did not, made him hold his tongue more than he would have in the presence of the two other idiots that he had woken up to.

The thump of the doors shutting sounded in the room and the man had yet to break the eye contact with him. Eren did not want to be the first to turn away, he had sworn to himself over and over again he would not ever back down against a capitol pig, but in this case it really turned out to be much more difficult than he had initially imagined.

"What's your name, kid?" the man asked. Eren could physically feel his eyes taking in every inch of him and analyzing it as though he were some rare creature now caught in their cage.

"Like hell I'll tell it to some capitol shit," Eren snapped, the man's unwavering gaze holding the mountain of insults he had on the tip of his tongue at bay.

The man's eyes narrowed and for the first time he broke the eye contact between them. Eren, feeling slightly relieved to have that pair of examining eyes off him, watched the man unbutton the sleeve on his shirt. The sleeve was tug up and Eren's eyes widened at the sight of numerous scars - some of them looking really old, probably dating back to childhood - decorating the pale skin on the man's arms.

"Does this look like the polished skin of one of those powdered pigs to you, brat?" the man snapped.

Completely caught off guard, Eren shook his head slowly. The man, seeing as his message had managed to get through the boy's thick skull, rolled the sleeve back down.

"Do I need to fucking repeat my question to you?" he demanded.

This time Eren obliged without further resistance. "Eren," he said. "Eren Jäger."

"Tell me, Jäger," the man started as he got a chair from the corner of the room and set it down in front of the boy, taking a seat on it and crossing his legs with his ankle resting on his kneeö his arms were crossed, "what kind of a fucking demon got up your ass to kill that fucker?"

To this question Eren was not as quick to answer. He averted his gaze, and said quietly, which somehow seemed to belie his nature, "Do I not get a name in return?"

The man's eyebrow arched. "What?"

Eren looked back at him, meeting his gaze with his own determined green eyes. "I gave you my name. Wouldn't it be polite to return the favour?"

A vein popped on the man's forehead as he gazed down at the boy. He muttered in a husky tone something to himself - something Eren could not understand, but it sounded French - before uncrossing his legs and leaning forward on the chair.

"You really don't have a clue what a massive shit you're in right now, do you?" the man asked the boy. "Politeness and my fucking name are really the least of your concerns."

Eren was aware of his situation not being overly rosy, but he did not find himself genuinely worried, either. He had been at gunpoint before and gotten out alive, this time there was not even a gun in sight.

"You don't seem fazed by my words, brat," the man noted.

Eren half-smiled, shaking his head. "Not really, no."

"I see," the man muttered. "Well, let me phrase it like this then - the only thing currently keeping me from slitting your bratty throat is the word of Eld, who said you might be of use to us. The two others you saw would not mind dumping your corpse in a river and only obliged since Eld is the second-in-command. Your only hope is convincing me that you're not the uncontrollable psychopath Gunther and Oluo see you as to stay alive. So if you're gonna, do get on with it already, I'd like to go to bed before the fucking sunrise."

Eren's eyes narrowed, but he did not argue back. The man was good at saying things so that there was no doubt left as to whether he was serious.

"It was a promise I made to a friend of mine, to rid the world of everyone at fault for his misfortune," Eren said with a solemn look in his eyes, no longer willing to meet the man's gaze. "I've no business with your group since you're not the Capitol. I only attacked because they attacked me first when I tried to escape."

The man leaned back in the chair, giving the boy a calculating look. "How old are you, Jäger?"

"Seventeen."

The man seemed to fall in thought for a moment. He then got up from the chair and pushed it back to the wall.

"Well, have a good night, then," he said on his way out of the room.

This surprised Eren. His eyes widened and body tensed as his brain processed what had just been said to him.

"Wait, what?!" he shouted. "You can't just leave me here!"

The man with his back on him snorted. "Fucking watch me."

Eren growled. "I haven't even done anything to you! I only managed to leave a scratch on that man's neck in self-defence before they knocked me unconscious! You've no right to keep me here!"

The man turned on his heel and gave the boy a cold look. "No right?" he repeated as he paced back closer. "Let me give you a brief overview of what you _have _done - you killed off one of our main trading partners, _during _one of our trades, so now they will trace it back to us, leaving us with a shit ton of unnecessary shit to sort out and deal with. You'd better pray you'll be able to make yourself useful for us or I'll feed you to those blood-hungry bastards like a mouse to a snake."

Eren did not have anything to counter with.

The silence seemed to satisfy the man. He turned around again, heading for the door. He opened it and, before stepping out, Eren caught one sentence from the man before he was gone.

"It's Levi."

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><p><em>To be continued...<em>


	2. Choices

**Chapter 2**

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><p>Eren did not sleep well. His dreams that he could not remember left a queasy feeling in his stomach, which did not disappear when he woke up. His neck and back were aching from sleeping in such an uncomfortable position and the dryness in his throat felt like nails scratching him on the inside.<p>

When Eren opened his eyes, it took him a few minutes to recollect his memories of the previous events and recall the place he was at. His eyelids felt heavy, like he had not got more than 3 hours of sleep, which could have been exactly the case,. He could not be sure, he did not own a watch.

Taking in his surroundings, he noticed a young woman sitting by the opposite wall with her eyes fixed on him. That staring was probably what had woken him, Eren thought.

The woman looked rather petite with light ginger hair that reached her shoulders and a cute round face, which held an aura of innocence. Her clothes were modest - a plain grey skirt reaching his knees and a light blue button up shirt. The way she sat with her legs pressed together and leaning to one side gave her a proper look, while her expression all but screamed good-hearted and gentleness.

Eren had trouble imagining such a lovely creature working together with the assholes he had encountered the day before. He could not find the will in himself to treat her as vulgarly as he had done for the others.

She seemed to have zoned out for a bit because after a while she blinked her eyes and, noticing Eren's gaze on her, straightened her back and stood up from the bench.

"You're awake," she said softly. Even her voice sounded so gentle, lacking all the scorn and distaste Eren had expected to receive from these people. He was almost afraid of opening his mouth in fear of a curse word slipping out that could have disturbed her innocence.

"They told me you were German, but can understand English. Do you understand me?" Her voice conveyed genuine concern, which made Eren unreasonably uncomfortable. He thought he would have preferred having Levi with his cold insults over her; she showed such motherly worry that awakened old memories in the boy's head, things he did not want to remember and long ago alienated from.

He nodded his head slowly.

A careful smile made its way to the woman's face. "That's good. I'm sorry I don't speak German."

_Please stop being so nice_, Eren thought in his head. It was unnerving.

The woman obviously was not a psychic, since she continued in an equally friendly manner. "They said your name is Eren. I'm Petra."

Eren almost said "nice to meet you", but managed to stop himself just in time. He really did not need this.

Petra looked at him hesitantly as an awkward silence ensued. Her eyes lit up as she recalled something. Whipping around, she walked back to the bench she had been resting on and returned with a plastic bottle and a glass.

"You must be thirsty!" she said. "I heard they brought you in after midnight. I brought you water, if you'd like some." She uncapped the bottle and poured the clear liquid into the glass, holding it out for water.

Eren looked at it with a frown. Despite the reluctance the woman's niceness engendered in him, he did not have the willpower to refuse a drink - the only thing was that he had no way of reaching the glass, leading them into another uncomfortable silence.

Petra noticed the issue and her face showed discomfort and guilt Eren did not want to see there. She looked like she was the one responsible for locking him up, while she had most definitely had nothing to do with it. Eren wanted to shout at her to stop showing him such pity but could not get out a single word.

"I'm sorry," the woman said with shame that Eren had come to despise in her eyes, "they did not give me a key to the handcuffs. But, if I may…" she trailed off and raised the glass closer to Eren's mouth. Noticing no signs of resistance, she continued and lifted it to the boy's lips, tipping it over a bit, letting the water flow into the mouth.

Eren drank hungrily. A ribbon of water made its way from between the glass and his skin down his chin and dropped into his shirt but he did not care. He let his eyes close as he felt the liquid moisten his sand-dry throat. He finished the glassful of water in a couple of sips.

"Would you like some more?" Petra asked and Eren could not hold himself back from nodding. After all, he did not know when would be the next time he would be shown such generosity.

Quickly he finished another glassful and ended up having his chin dripping from water. Petra pulled out a handkerchief and with careful movements patted his chin dry.

"I brought you a blanket and a pillow as well!" she said as she rose from the ground and shuffled back to the bench where she had laid them. "It must be awfully uncomfortable having to sleep in that position and I don't think Levi will return before midday, so-" She produced a plaid blanket and a pillow in front of Eren and helped him get (more or less) comfortable with him. She put the pillow behind his head and spread the blanket over his lower half.

"I'm sorry, I don't think I can do more. They only serve breakfast at 8 and-"

"Why're you doing this?" Eren cut her off, opening his mouth for the first time in her presence.

"What do you mean-?" Petra asked, looking slightly taken aback and astounded by the question.

"I mean, why're you being so nice to me?" Eren explained, finding the need for elaboration ridiculous. "Is this some sort of pre-execution comforting? In which case, I'd rather pass."

Petra averted her gaze, looking sad all of a sudden, as though she found the words too cruel. She must have known they were not totally made up as there was a hint of regret in the depth of her eyes as well.

"I don't think they're going to do that," she said quietly. "Levi would not - he's a good man."

Eren barely managed to hold back a snort and keep his expression neutral.

"He would not waste a life without a well-justified reason." Eren noticed determination spread over the woman's face as she spoke of her superior; it was obvious she was fond of him. "If you do not pose a threat to us, he won't do anything to you."

"And what makes you think I'm not a threat?"

Personally, Eren did not see himself as a threat of any sort. Against one man, sure, with some luck he could win, but what he had stumbled upon here seemed like a lot bigger bite than he could have chewed; him being locked up there was a rather solid proof of that.

However he had not failed to notice the wary looks he had received from the people so far, as though they had been monitoring some wild animal.

"Because you're a good person," Petra said with unexpected certainty, making Eren's eyes widen. Her gaze on him was unwavering. "You've the same look in your eyes, just like Levi," she spoke. "I know people with a hidden past and a fixed goal tend to come across as cold and distant, but you share the same look as he does - a look that cares. You're not a bad person."

Eren did not know how to respond, so he did not and let Petra leave in silence.

-x-

Eren managed to fall asleep for the second time until the sound of doors opening awakened him from his restless dreams. He cracked open an eye, instantly feeling the soreness in his neck. He shifted his position a bit, the chains of the handcuffs jingling with his movement.

From the open doors stepped in Levi. His walk was calm and moderate. He was dressed in a pair of dark brown trousers and a black leather jacket draped over a navy blue shirt. His hair was combed and neat-looking and a bored and distant expression lay on his face, which Eren did not think would ever leave. After Petra's words from earlier, Eren caught himself examining the man's face, particularly his eyes, more closely, despite himself. He wanted to find that _look_ that she had been talking about - the one that Eren himself was supposed to possess as well.

All he found was an endless darkness of black orbs.

"What're you staring at, brat?" Levi snapped, bringing Eren back from his thoughts.

Eren frowned and averted his gaze. "Nothing."

He took notice of the plate with food that Levi was holding in his hands and set down on the floor beside him. Eren gave it a confused look, then glanced at Levi. His surprise grew even more when the man produced a ring of keys from his pocket and bent over to reach the handcuffs.

"I swear I will shoot you in an instant if you try anything tricky," Levi warned him as Eren's hands were finally released from the cold metal chains.

Eren looked over the red marks that had been left on his skin and rubbed them tenderly, saying, "I've already told you I've no business with your group." He sent the man a sharp glare. "That man deserved his death a thousand times over. Doesn't mean I'm gonna jump anyone in front of me."

"So you say," Levi muttered. "Eat," he said, motioning towards the plate.

Eren glanced down at the fried eggs with tomatoes and cucumbers on the side. He could not remember the last time he had, had any food even close to the quality he was being offered here, which made him suspect whether the food could have been poisoned.

Levi seemed to see through his hesitation and said, "If you think of yourself valuable enough for us to waste poison on killing you, you're as imbecile and conceited as you were yesterday."

Eren sensed sudden movement from the man and instinctively caught whatever was thrown at him. He looked the small box over and found a package of wet tissues he examined with a puzzled expression.

"Clean up your hands, they're fucking disgusting," Levi said, turning his back on the boy and walking across the room to sit down on one of the benches.

Eren looked over his dirt-covered hands and could not argue. As much as he hated accepting these acts of so called kindness, he did not have much of a choice unless he wished to give himself food poisoning.

Eren cleaned his hands to the best of his ability and picked up the plate. Already the smell of the food was enough to send his head reeling, he wished his friends would have been there to share it with. As it happened to be, the food had been given to him alone, so he did his best to savour every bite he took.

Levi watched the hungry teen gobble down the food he had brought. It was obvious the boy was not used to eating properly. The man wondered if this could have been just another kid from the ditch attempting a revenge on the Capitol until his luck ran out. Even if he was, they could not just let him go that easily. Out on the streets, he would surely be captured and tortured for information WoF could not let spread to some ears.

Furthermore, the organization was in dire need of fighters. The most recent clashes with the Capitol's guard dogs had beaten many of the members to the hospital wing, while some others had not been as lucky…

Letting a 17-year-old join the organization was something that went totally against Levi's wishes, but he did not have the luxury to be that picky. Besides, the boy's reckless and brutal actions were enough to earn him the punishment of an adult anywhere else, so he might have as well gotten treated as one by him, too.

Something about the boy in front of him led Levi to think he was not just another ordinary stranded youth that filled the streets of the ghetto. Maybe it was the influence of Petra's words after she had met him that had gotten him to truly consider accepting the boy to the organization, perhaps it was something else.

Taking into account their recent lack of luck, it was certain that some crucial changes were in order, since the current methods had proved themselves ineffective. Perhaps fresh blood was exactly the thing that would bring upon a change to the situation?

Eren finished eating, barely holding himself back from licking the plate clean. The meal had been beyond delicious. He set the dish aside and coughed before averting his eyes and muttering an almost inaudible, "Thank you."

Levi raised an eyebrow. He had not expected the kid to possess any sort of manners, not with the way he had been behaving so far. Maybe this was not such a lost cause after all.

"I take it you understand that we cannot just let you go like this," Levi started. "You'd pose a threat with all that you've seen alone out on the streets."

"I don't get what you want from me."

"Cooperation," Levi stated, receiving a quizzical look from the boy. The man elaborated, "We expect you to choose between full cooperation with our organization and a bullet to the head."

Eren's eyebrows knitted together at the threat.

"Don't you think I deserve a bit more info on what this organization of yours is before making such a choice?"

"How much do you know about the Wings of Freedom?"

The anger on Eren's face dissolved into something of confusion and surprise. He had not been expecting such a question. Now that he thought about it, he had heard the name being mentioned by that Italian as well last night...

"Not much," the boy admitted. "I don't read the news and people have contradictory opinions on them. Some say they're the Capitol's lapdogs, others claim them to help. Mikasa said she heard they're led by some grumpy short stuff that looks like he's got someone pinching his arse all the time…" Eren trailed off and his averted gaze soon found its way back to Levi, whose expression was anything but amused at that moment.

Eren stared at him cluelessly for a little while, until something inside his head clicked.

"Oh," he said as he connected the dots. "She must've meant you."

Levi's face darkened ten shades as his eyes glared daggers at the boy. Eren felt himself pale under the look but found himself unable to turn away either.

"So you understand your choices," Levi finally said.

"I'm not gonna become one of the Capitol's lapdogs," Eren stated firmly.

"It's either that or death," Levi reminded him. Before Eren got to say what probably would have been his preference of death over serving the aristocrats, the man added, "Besides, just how loyal do you truly think we are after the scars that they've left on us?"

Eren closed his mouth without saying anything after that.

Levi monitored his facial expressions closely for a while until he sighed with resignation. Evidently he was not going to get away with as little explanation as he would have preferred.

"What you witnessed in the warehouse," he said, "was a trade."

"_That much I understood_," Eren mumbled sullenly. The tone irked Levi while it came as a surprise at the same time. Was the kid sulking?

"What offends you, I assume, is the fact that we engage in business with scum like that?" Levi surmised.

Eren bit his lower lip while nodding. Levi possessed an odd way of hitting the nail with his vulgar speech. The feeling Eren got like the man could see through him was unnerving.

"And just where the fuck are we supposed to take the fucking money from to aid the poor, if not the rich?"

Eren blinked and gazed at the man with a confused look as realization was starting to clear its way through the puzzlement reigning over his mind. The exact same moment there was a single knock on the door and it jumped open, a storm of loud giggles in the form of a brown-haired woman dashed in, startling Eren to a stand-still.

"LEVIIIIIIII!" the voice screeched and Eren could not tell if it was a whine or excited exclamation, "WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME ABOUT THE NEW MEMBER-" Her eyes suddenly found Eren and she halted mid-step and -sentence. The smile on her face grew wide as she took the boy in.

"Is this the little handsome devil you chose?" she asked, something sparkling in her eyes that Eren did not quite understand. He felt like it would have been wise to keep his distance from the woman, but her approaching figure did not quite allow him to do that.

"He's so _cute_!" she exclaimed. "I always knew you had a soft spot for-"

"_Hanji_," Levi threatened, pinching the bridge of his nose as he could feel another headache starting to bloom. "This kid was not picked by me."

"But you chose to let him stay!" the woman - now known as Hanji - argued.

Eren raised an eyebrow at that. He was not aware of things being decided as such already.

Levi only grunted, but did not reply. He got up from his seat and with his back on Eren told Hanji, "I'm fucking leaving. Since you're so excited about this brat, how about you give him the bloody tour yourself."

Before Eren could even blink, the man had already left the room, abandoning him and their conversation to be picked up by this eccentric woman before him.

Hanji gave the closing door a soft smile before turning to Eren. "He does that all the time," she explained, confirming Eren's suspicion. "But don't worry, you'll learn to love him. Welcome aboard, kid."

* * *

><p><em>To be continued...<em>


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